


26. Stephen Moyer won't take no for an answer from Alex Skarsgard

by alley_oops, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Luke Evans and Alex Skarsgard [26]
Category: Actor RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-02
Updated: 2008-11-02
Packaged: 2018-01-01 14:00:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1044788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alley_oops/pseuds/alley_oops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica





	26. Stephen Moyer won't take no for an answer from Alex Skarsgard

(NPC) Stephen Moyer won't take no for an answer from Alex Skarsgard  
[backdated to February, when Alex is filming _True Blood_ in L.A.]

“Alex!”

Alex looks over his shoulder just in time before Stephen claps an arm around him. “We’re doing grilled shrimp and a drink-up at ours tonight,” Stephen says, dragging him in for a one-armed neck hug before he lets him go. “Eight, yeah?”

Alex is already shaking his head. “Nah, I can’t make it. I’ve got--”

“Plans?” Stephen says brightly, keeping pace with him while Alex stalks through the studio lot on his way to his trailer. “Doing what, exactly?”

“Plans doing none of your business, exactly,” Alex tells him with a forbidding frown, which should serve as warning enough to back the hell off.

Stephen nods sagely. “Ahhh, right. And will you be getting laid?”

Alex rolls his eyes. “No.”

“That’s what I thought. So come to ours for dinner, get drunk, and have some fun for once,” Stephen insists. “These past few weeks--”

“Wait, what do you mean, ‘that’s what I thought’?” Alex interrupts, perturbed. He stops in his tracks and folds his arms across his chest, glaring down at Stephen.

Clearly completely unconcerned by this display of aggression, Stephen holds his ground and simply shrugs. “It’s been blindingly obvious to, oh, everyone, that you’ve been a right shithead to work with ever since you came back from hiatus. Most people are placing odds on how long it’s been since you’ve gotten any, although no one really has a good theory on why it’s even an issue in the first place.” Stephen studies Alex with one eyebrow raised. “So, what’s her name?”

Alex groans and starts walking again. “There’s no ‘her’,” he tells Stephen, and feels his anger start to rise at the thought of being an object of idle speculation, gossiped over - wagered on, seriously? - by his coworkers.

“Nah, that’s total shite,” Stephen says, shaking his head.

Stephen’s natural British accent is so different from the 19th century Louisiana drawl he affects on the show, and sometimes - like when he comes out with ‘shite’ - it still jars Alex’s ear. “It’s not,” Alex insists, unlocking his trailer door. He glances back over his shoulder. “There’s a ‘him’, though,” he says, and slams the door behind himself.

“Damn it!” Stephen glares at the door for a long moment before wrenching it open and inviting himself into Alex’s trailer. “Now I owe Anna fifty bucks, you fucker.”

Kicking back onto his couch, Alex snorts a laugh. “Why?”

“Because she bet me that you were bisexual, and I said there’s no fucking way.” Stephen sits down and props his feet up on the tiny dinette table.

“Dumbass.” Alex laughs again. “ _She’s_ bi. Don’t ever bet against her gaydar, you’ll always lose. Idiot.”

“ _Damn_ it,” Stephen exclaims again, frowning. Then he sighs and moves on. “So, where the hell is he? Instead of here, sucking you off into a good mood every morning so that we don’t have to put up with your bullshit?”

Now it’s Alex’s turn to glare. “New Zealand.”

Stephen blinks. “Come again?”

“You heard me. He’s in fucking New Zealand,” Alex retorts, grumpy all over again now.

Eyeing Alex for a good few seconds, Stephen blows out a breath. “You sure know how to pick them. You couldn’t possibly find a single attractive gay man in all of Los Angeles? And here I was laboring under the misimpression that there was some sort of industry that drew them all here... Oh, wait! There is!”

“Steve, shut it,” Alex says, his voice a soft growl. “You don’t know _him_.”

Now Stephen raises an eyebrow, and he has to fight to keep the amusement wiped clean from his face. “So it’s like that, is it?”

Alex frowns at him. “Like what?”

“Like... there have to be at least fifty thousand gorgeous gay men in this city who would fucking love to drink your bathwater, but instead of taking advantage of this obvious surplus, you choose... New Zealand. Like _that_.”

For long moments Alex is silent. Then he folds his arms defensively across his chest and narrows his eyes at Stephen. “You’re really fucking annoying, did your mama ever tell you that?”

Smirking, Stephen drops his feet to the floor. He reaches out and ruffles Alex’s hair before the man can slap his hand aside, then makes his way out of the trailer. “Eight o’clock!” he yells over his shoulder. “Or I’ll come fetch your daft self and drag you there!”  



End file.
